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90 Monday, January 14th. 1850

California Greeting between meeting friends. - I was much amused to day. A crowd of miners arrived from above having narrowly escaped drowning by the rise of water in the night. They cut a hole in the back of their tent and clambered up the rocks. They were friends of our neighbors the young Pennsylvanian Dutchman. One of the comers saw his friend just leaving his tent - and he commenced advancing at the same time. “ Hollon you son of a bitch!” “Hia! you son of a bitch how are you - how do you do you old son of a bitch!” Then there was recognitions shaking of hands - but whether the remainder of the greetings were according to the sample I could not hear.

Teusday, January 15th 1850.

Escaped narrowly manslaughter. Payson was practicing with his Allen’s Revolver and I standing was standing beside him when the pistol exploded leaving the wreck in his hand. It was the mercy of Providence that neither of us were mangled by the accident.

We are at work for Murren - getting out poles for his tent. $10.00 each per day. This is a new phase in my history. Being hired out as a day laborer. I was weary at noon with scoring and heaving. Trowbridge was burried this afternoon Señor read the Episcopal Service. In the rain - we bore his body out to the palace of the Natoma Seud. In we fall - we gold adventurers one after another. The number of deaths in this country is alarming. Some have calculated that every tenth man falls a victim. Truly we are treading on slippery places.

Sunday, January 20th 1850.

‘Tis again the holy day of rest. The bright sun enlivens the earth - the pure sky looses itself in deepening blue - all without appears glad and grateful - as if uniting with the character of this day. What holy associations belong to the Sabbath - what interest attaches to it - in view of its Divine Appointment. It is the day which moves our hearts upward.